Decision
by PetiteFee24
Summary: Sometimes you can't take the easy path.


_**Title: **__Decision _

_**Author:**__ PetiteFee24_

_**Raiting: T **__(language?)_

_**Pairing:**__ EricxAlan, kinda onsided. Scratch that, FRIENDSHIP XD  
_

_**Summary:**__ Sometimes you can't take the easy path._

_**Warnings:**__ none._

_**Author's Notes:**__ I just needed to type this. I just love this paring so much. One shot – long drabble. It's unbetaedited, but I swear I read it thoroughly to avoid any mistake. Please, feel free to make any kind of suggestions, corrections or comments since English is not my first language. Or if you want to beta, pleaaaase do so! I would be truly delighted._

_And if you're a Spanish native speaker please say "Here" or something it's really REALLY frustrating not knowing other people that liked KuroMyu and I can fangirl with XD. Thanx._

_Hope you like it._

_**Disclaimer:**__ Nop mine. If this would be mine well... Eric and Alan would be alive, GrellxUndertaker would be canon... so would be RonxWilliam, and Claude would be my bitch XDD_

~O~

He sighed.

He felt terribly tired; he could barely walk while exhaustion took the best of him. He closed the door and leaned into it for support. Every single part of his body was tense in pain and even though it's was freezing outside, his internal ache wasn't anything related to the weather. He dropped his death scythe and the cold sound of metal carelessly crashing down filled the room. He passed his fingers through his hair.

After collecting ten different souls in the misery filled streets of London, he had left Alan lying in his bed at the brunette's apartment. Of course he didn't want to leave the boy by himself in such troublesome state, but he solemnly insisted to be left alone. Well, to be truly honest, the young one kicked his ass out while gasping in pain. He was pretty sure that Alan was about to threaten him with cutting his head off if he didn't get out. So, against his better judgment, he left.

Eric understood that Alan didn't want to be seen as nuisance, nor a drag nor weak in front of his colleagues, but, in front of him? He was his sempai when he started collecting souls after his reborn as a death god, and had guided him through every step of the way. This was the fifth time he witnessed an attack of his friend and it got worse every time.

He walked into the bathroom. Looked at the mirror and took off his glasses. Wearing glasses at work not only was a rule for every shinigami, also it was necessary to be able to see the cinematic record of the souls they were supposed to harvest in time and manner. He didn't need them for anything more though, his vision was perfect as ever. He let the water run while seeing his reflection. He did not only felt tired, he also looked like shit. He washed his face feeling a shiver run down his spine at the cold water. Suddenly he felt more aware and alert. That was supposed to be a good thing but it made him remember more sharply the last couple of hours and his friend's face constricted in pain. He held on tightly into the sink. He still could hear in his ears the silent pained pants.

The first time he witnessed Alan clung his chest in pain during a mission, he let it pass without too much commotion. He only asked the boy if he was able to continue. He answered yes and they went to finish their soul collecting together. Eric couldn't stop staring the boy wondering what could make an immortal cringe in pain besides a work injury.

Two weeks later, while they were in the Eastside of London in another cold and rainy night, Alan held back a cry of pain. After watching in confusion and disbelief the brunette's second attack during a mission, he demanded the young one for an explanation.

If he was somewhat incapable of taking care of his duties or was something wrong with him, Eric must know since he was trusting his own life to the boy. During a mission, they were supposed to be a team and watch each other's back. He needed to know if there was a demon nearby he should take it down by his own and watch the kid's back in the process. Alan didn't respond and only promised that it won't happen again. The blond couldn't feel more frustrated.

When the third attack occurred, the dark haired one was left hopeless to confess the truth.

_"Thorns of Death"_ he whispered in pained sobs while trying to hold back the tears that blinded him.

The only thing that could kill an immortal being.

He looked up to see his reflection in the small mirror in front of him. He felt a murderous instinct taking over. The desperation and helplessness inside glaring him in repressed rage. There must be something he could do to stop this utter madness.

He punched his reflection, shattering the glass into small pieces that fell to the floor making strange patterns with the reflection of the moonlight that came through the small window.

This couldn't be happening. Death Gods don't get sick, they weren't supposed to get sick.

If that was true, then _his_ Alan was dying in front of him and he couldn't do anything to help it. Yes, _his_ Alan. Because in the moment when the boy confessed he was dying, Eric saw the same loneliness he felt every day when he woke up in his bed, reflected in the double colored eyes of the young one.

When the forth attack occurred, he was standing next to Alan doing nothing and being useless. He felt pure desperation at the sight of his partner falling to his knees, clutching his chest in agony, holding back a scream at the unbearable pain. He knew just then that he couldn't live an eternity if he was force to see the light of Alan's eyes extinguish forever.

_If just Alan knew... _

After that, he researched everywhere to find a cure to the damned condition. He searched desperately to find something that would allow his friend to remain at his side; something that, ironically, could take him away from the claws of death.

Then, he heard about it: an ancient legend that involved a miraculous cure. The only chance they got. He needed to achieve collecting one thousand pure and unstained souls. One thousand souls just to save the one that really mattered.

He looked at his distorted reflection in what was left of the broken mirror. He was aware of the meaning of taking that path. He would be force to left his position as a Death God, he would have to kill innocent people who weren't supposed to die to achieve his one goal. He looked at his bloody knuckles and smirked.

The decision was already made the day they were surrounded by ericas in that lonely path. He knew he wasn't alone anymore, that they were together, bounded by loneliness, to eternity. The boy definitely had gone deep inside him without him noticing before. If keeping Alan alive and by his side required stain his hand in blood and be embraced by darkness... so be it.

He just couldn't go back to his old self, not after finding the soul mate he looked for ages without knowing. He couldn't afford to lose that pure soul that dragged him out of centuries of gray senseless monotony. He needed to protect him and to make him feel safe in his arms. He needed Alan, bone and flesh, by his side.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He felt between a sword and a wall, holding to a white hot wire for salvation.

_"I can't sleep, I can't stay awake. You took my calm and my sanity way. Even if I lose everything, I just can bear losing you. I'm going to save you, Alan. No matter what it takes."_

He sighed again.

It was going to be a hell to hide the undestined deaths from William. He was a pain in the ass already.

He looked around to the mess in the bathroom. Damn. He needed to clean up.

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**_Love it? Hate it? Let me know._**


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